The Pursuit of Adventure
by fairytale ideals
Summary: (Abandoned- I would not recommend starting reading this.) "So what you're saying is that you want to stay in small town Ohio for the rest of your life?" "No, but—" "Come on, Kurt. I'll even give you hints."
1. The Candy Shop

**This is a bit of a self-indulgent fic.** **I've always been in love with this concept for a long time, and now I'm actually writing it.**

**Also, if anyone sees this who reads Until the Stars Fall from the Sky, I am planning on finishing that before continuing with this. Don't worry, I'm not leaving that hanging. :)**

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><p>"Come on, Kurt, it'll be fun."<p>

Kurt sighed, internally conceding that it probably would be fun. "I don't feel like going partying right now."

Finn sighed. "That's exactly why you need to go party."

"Finn, what I really need to do right now is to look for a job."

"That can wait until tomorrow at least. I'm not going to let you sit here and mope."

"Just go to your party."

"Not without you."

Kurt sighed, standing up from his seat on the couch. "I'm going to go get dressed."

"Yes!" Finn exclaimed, grinning. "I swear, dude, you won't regret it."

Kurt Hummel's life was not where he had expected it to be. In high school, he had promised himself that he'd go to college in New York, where he'd make it big on Broadway and, of course, a handsome boy would sweep him off his feet and they'd run off into the sunset together.

Things had not panned out according to plan. He hadn't gotten into the college he wanted to and instead stayed in Ohio and went to a small liberal arts school there. At age twenty-four, he was stuck in Lima, Ohio, living paycheck to paycheck while his best friend chased her dreams—_their_ dreams—in New York City without him.

To top it all off, he had just gotten fired from his job at the local bookstore because of his 'negative attitude'. But really, there were only so many times he could be forced to point a giggling preteen girl towards the latest trashy supernatural love story before he completely lost it. So in some way, getting fired was a blessing hidden in a curse.

As he got dressed—making sure to look good but not like he was trying too hard—he could hear Finn lumbering around in the living room. It should have been weird, living, as an adult, with his stepbrother who he had formerly had a crush on, but there was something undeniably comfortable about it. And besides, it was definitely easier than trying to find someone around here who was alright with his sexuality.

When he returned to the living room, Finn pulled Kurt's phone off the charger and handed it to him. "I'm driving," Finn said, "So you can drink. A lot. Just, you know, keep your phone with you. And let me know if, uh, you meet anyone and, uh…"

Kurt sighed. "Finn, what are the chances of me meeting anyone tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Finn shrugged. "I just wanted to remind you. I mean, remember last time?"

Kurt smirked. The last time Finn had dragged Kurt out to a party, halfway through Finn had dropped his phone in a toilet and spent the next few hours (by Finn's estimation, so it really could have been minutes) drunkenly wandering through the crowd and calling out Kurt's name. When he finally found Kurt, he collapsed into his arms, crying because he was "sure I'd lost you _forever_, man, _forever_."

"As I recall," Kurt said, pocketing the phone, "that one was all you."

"Still gotta make sure," Finn said, grabbing his keys from a hook on the wall—he had lost them countless times until Kurt had put up the hook and made him use it—and opening the door, gesturing for Kurt to go ahead of him.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asked.

Finn sighed. "You're not going to like it," he answered.

"Oh god, you're taking me to that sleazy club, aren't you?"

"It's not that sleazy."

"Finn, have you looked around? It is the dirtiest place I've ever willingly gone."

"That's why it's dark."

Kurt grimaced. "Great."

"You're still going, though, right?" Finn asked nervously.

After a perhaps a bit _too_ dramatic sigh, Kurt nodded. "You're right about one thing, Finn. I do need a drink."

The Candy Shop _was_ a bit of a dodgy place, really. Kurt had known this since his first trip there at age nineteen, going in with some friends and panicking because he was under twenty one and the bouncer would just _know_ and he'd get arrested or something and he'd have to call his dad and tell him what happened, but instead he got to the door and he had to practically force the man at the door to look at his fake ID even though he was so very definitely not legal.

But, really, it probably should have been expected that this place turned the other cheek when it came to underage patrons—it was called _The Candy Shop_. In theory it was a cutesy name, or an ode to a 50 Cent song that was decidedly not about candy, though that was copyrighted so if anyone asked it was the former.

Once you were inside, of course, it was exactly what you'd expect of a dingy old club to be. It was dark save for a few tacky colorful, flashing lights and neon lights hung on the walls. There was also that incessant strobe light in some corners, but Kurt forced himself to not pay attention to it or it would give him a headache. And there was no way Finn would believe him if he cited a headache when he asked if they could leave.

Almost as soon as they arrived, Finn disappeared into the mass of bodies to do whatever it was when he didn't drink. Despite the somewhat questionable crowd the Candy Shop drew, Kurt realized, Finn probably had _friends_ there. He repressed the urge to shudder.

He walked up to the bar, knowing that if he wanted to get his mind off of how creepy and unhygienic the Candy Shop was and actually have any fun, he would need to get drunk. He stood in front of the bar, trying to avoid anyone else's body and get the bartender's attention to get his beer.

Once he had a beer in each hand, he retreated to a corner of the room, taking in the sight of the drunken (and most likely under the influence of at least one drug in most cases) bodies grinding against each other.

He was on his way to getting a pleasant buzz when he heard a voice from next to him ask, "You a writer?"

Kurt looked over to see a man with dark gelled-down hair looking at him curiously, a green drink in his hand. For a second, Kurt got distracted by how his eyes, wide in questioning, managed to catch what little light there was in the club. "What?" he asked.

"You seem out of place. I mean, you're definitely not the average Candy Shop goer." Furrowing his brow, he added, "And you're watching people, observing them, maybe. And you seem, I don't know, pensive or sad. I was hoping for pensive, you know. Like you're thinking about the meaning of life."

Kurt furrowed his brow.

"Okay, so you're sad," the man said, leaning against the wall next to him. "You're waiting for someone, right?" He gestured to the beers in Kurt's hands.

"No," Kurt said. "These are both mine. And I'm not sad."

"I see," the other man said. He finished off his drink, standing in silence and watching at Kurt slowly did the same.

"Come on," the man said, grabbing onto his hand. "I'm going to buy you a drink."

"Why?"

"You're interesting," he said, "and I need another drink, too." He lifted up his empty glass as evidence.

"I've seen this movie," Kurt said, "and I know this is a bad idea. I don't even know your name."

"Blaine."

"What?" he asked.

"Blaine," he repeated, looking oddly pleased with himself. "Blaine Anderson. And I would like to buy you a drink," he added, sounding like a campaign commercial.

"I still really don't have any reason to trust you."

"Do I really look that much like a rapist?" Blaine asked.

"Can never be too safe," Kurt said.

Blaine chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "You're careful. I can appreciate that…" he paused, frowning. "Do I get a name?"

"No," he replied, taking a small step away from him.

"Please? Just this one thing?"

"And you'll go away?"

"Definitely," Blaine said, grinning.

"Kurt," he said.

"Kurt!" he repeated. "I like it."

"Okay, you can leave now," he said. "You know my name, and you said you'd leave."

"I lied," Blaine said. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he added, "Being of no power to make his wishes good, his promises fly so beyond his state that what he speaks is all in debt; he owes for every word."

"What?"

"Shakespeare!" Blaine said brightly.

Kurt blinked. He wondered what a younger Kurt might think of this situation, being approached at a bar by a man quoting Shakespeare. He wasn't entirely sure that it made sense in this situation (he wouldn't past the guy to quote something completely irrelevant), but it was _Shakespeare_. Not that he was impressed.

After a few more minutes of back and forth (the details of which Kurt would later be extremely fuzzy on), Kurt realized that he was not going to give up and letting him buy him a beer probably wouldn't hurt as long as he was careful.

Blaine caught the bartender's attention, asking for another beer and an Appletini.

"You have got to be kidding me," Kurt said.

"What?" he asked, furrowing his brows and _good lord_, those were thick.

"An Appletini? You drink Appletinis."

Blaine laughed. Flippantly, he waved his hand and answered, "Of course not. I'm just getting it for my girlfriend, because that's the man thing to do!"

"You have a girlfriend?" Kurt asked, feeling slightly disappointed even though he knew he shouldn't be.

Blaine laughed. "No! I'm _gay_," he said. Frowning as he glanced back at the bartender, he added, "I'm going to assume that in your drunken state you—"

"I am not drunk," Kurt said.

"You've had at least two beers."

"I'm not a lightweight."

Blaine held his hands out, miming running his hands down Kurt's sides. "You sure?"

"Definitely," Kurt said, reaching out and taking his beer. "I am a ways off from being drunk."

Eventually, though, he did hit that point.

"Blaine, Blaine," he said, a number he wasn't quite sure of drinks later, "I am _drunk_." He stumbled, leaning his body against Blaine's, no longer sober enough to remember his usual rules about personal space.

"Yes," Blaine agreed, nodding, "yes you are."

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Why aren't you drunk?" he asked, frowning at Blaine as he leaned further against him.

"Someone needs to look after you," he said.

"Finn!" Kurt said quickly, looking up at Blaine as if the name was supposed to mean something to him.

"Pardon?" Blaine asked.

"He… my _Finn_," Kurt said.

"Is Finn your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Is Finn my… _no! No!_" Kurt replied, straightening himself up and letting out a loud laugh. "No way. But, like, Finn. He takes care of me. He's such a good brother. I should tell him what a good brother he is." He pulled out his phone, which Blaine promptly took out of his hands. Kurt frowned. "Do you have any brothers?"

"Yeah, but we don't really talk much," Blaine answered, smiling at Kurt now that he understood who Finn was.

"Thas_sucks_," Kurt slurred. He drooping for a second before grabbing Blaine's shoulders and adding excitedly, "But you know, Blaine, I didn't have a brother at first. And Finn didn't really like me that much, but now we are closer than… than… I don't know. I love him."

"Well, that's good," he said.

"I planned their wedding," Kurt said. "In a week."

Blaine furrowed his brows, trying to follow Kurt's train of thought. "So Finn is your stepbrother?"

Kurt nodded. "He's nice to me."

Blaine hesitated, remembering the decidedly sad look on Kurt's face when he first saw him. "Are people not nice to you?" he asked.

Kurt shrugged. "You're nice to me," he said after a moment. "Unless you're actually a rapist. But you seem nice. Are there nice rapists? Oh my god, you're a nice rapist." He stepped back away from Blaine.

"I am not a nice rapist."

"You're a _mean_ rapist?" Kurt gasped.

"No, no, oh god, no," Blaine said. "I am a nice person. Not a rapist at all."

Kurt nodded appreciatively, seeming to find this answer acceptable. He watched Blaine for a moment, watching as Blaine did something with a phone. He realized somewhere in the back of his mind that it was _his_ phone, though it did not register as an _important_ fact at the moment.

As Kurt watched Blaine, his arm fell slack and he spilled his drink on the floor. Looking down at it, he smiled. "It's like a waterfall." He leaned against Blaine for a second, then said, "Waterfalls are great. This one time my mom and dad took me to T-tennuh… Tennesstate! And they took me to a waterfall. I could have stayed for _hours!_"

"That sounds lovely, Kurt," Blaine said, grinning at him.

He looked at Blaine, his face somber. "It was our last vacation as a family. I keep meaning to go back, but I am a fucking responsible adult." He gazed off into the distance for a moment, swaying absentmindedly, then looked up sharply, grinning. "Blaine!"

"Yes?"

"Drink. You need another drink." He looked confused for a second, and then declared, "Shots."

"One shot."

"One shot!" Kurt declared, pushing through the crowd towards the bar. "Blaine needs one shot!"

One shot turned into two shots when Kurt asked for two shots, saying he would do the other, but ended up handing both to Blaine. And Blaine wasn't about to say no.

So while he was certainly not as drunk as Kurt, he wasn't extremely sober, either.

"_Yo! I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want."_

"Oh my god, I love this song!" Kurt announced brightly.

"This is… what year are we in?"

Kurt looked panicked. "Oh god, I don't know. I really don't know."

"This is from the nineties, and I don't think it ever really belonged in a club," Blaine commented.

"Shut up and dance with me, sir," Kurt said. "You bought me beer, you have to dance!"

Blaine laughed at Kurt's enthusiasm. "Sure, why not? I _love_ dancing," he announced.

Kurt was moving his body against Blaine's in a way that, by some loose definition, was dancing. It wasn't graceful by any means (neither of them were at the moment), mostly just waving limbs and shaking hips.

"If you wanna be my lover!" he sang along. He apparently was not lying when he said that he loved the song. He sang the chorus fairly accurately, barring some inevitable slurring.

During the verses, however, his sing-shouting declined into mostly random syllables that vaguely resembled the tune of Wannabe. "Fuck it," he said, sighing. "Spin me!"

Blaine laughed, taking Kurt by the hand and twirling him around. In hindsight, it was a bit of a risky move. He didn't know how well Kurt held his alcohol, after all.

"Kurt," he announced, "this song, Wannabe by the Spice Girls, this is our song."

Kurt had been trying to sing along again. He looked up at Blaine with a frown. "The words are so fast," he sobbed.

Blaine chuckled. "You are a fun person. I'm just trying to figure out how much of this is the alcohol."

Kurt looked at him for a second, looking a bit like he wanted to say something but didn't have the words—as to what he was thinking, Blaine couldn't be sure—then grinned as the chorus got closer. "Sing with me, Blaine! Sing!"

And so together they sang. "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends! Make it last forever, friendship never ends!"

He looked up at Blaine, grinning, and surged forward, pressing his lips against Blaine's. As soon as Blaine relaxed into the kiss and tilted his head for a better angle, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. It probably wasn't the best kiss: Kurt had very little experience in that area and he was drunk to boot, but, well, some things were just instinctual. When Kurt's phone vibrated in Blaine's pocket—their bodies tucked close enough together that they both felt it—Blaine pulled back with a moan.

Kurt pulled the phone from Blaine's pocket, looking at the words on the screen. "It's Finn!" he announced brightly. "He wants to know where I am!"

Blaine let out a long sigh. "Are you leaving?"

"I think so," he said absently, "Finn wants to leave and he always leaves when I want to leave." He smiled at Blaine. "Goodbye, Blaine!"

Blaine reached out to grab his arm as he turned to leave. "You're not driving, are you?"

"No," Kurt said. "Finn isn't drinking so he can drive. He's the best. I love him." He leaned over and kissed Blaine's cheek. "You are a gentleman and a scholar."

Blaine grinned. "Goodbye, Kurt," he said. Kurt stumbled, though, and Blaine rushed forward to grab him. "I'll help you to the door."

"I'm fine," Kurt argued, but he didn't put up much of a fight as Blaine looped an arm around him.

They made their way to the door. As soon as they stepped outside into the cool night air, Kurt made an excited noise and ran to hug a tall man who looked down in surprise at him.

"You're Finn, right?" Blaine asked. "…if not, this is _so_ awkward."

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Umm, thanks for helping Kurt get out here."

"Blaine's nice, Finn," Kurt said. "Just like you're nice. I love you."

Finn gave a slight wave to Blaine as he nodded at Kurt. "I love you, too, Kurt," he said, leading Kurt to the car as Blaine went back inside.

Kurt spent the next day mostly in bed, sleeping off his hangover as best as he could. When Finn woke him up to hand him Advil and water—he _was_ a good brother—he informed Finn, "I am never drinking again."

Finn let out a quiet laugh. "I believe you, bro," he said.

"I mean it this time," he insisted. "I don't even remember last night."

"So you don't remember the guy you met?"

"I… do," Kurt replied, though the word 'do' came out sounding more like a question. "It's all fuzzy."

Finn shrugged. "No biggie," he said.

"His name began with a B," he said, sinking back into the bed. "I know that much."

Finn stood up to leave the room. "It was a random guy at a club. You'll probably never see him again."

"True," Kurt said, rolling over onto his side.

"Night," Finn said, even though it was only around noon.

"Night."

In the morning, Kurt was feeling decidedly more human. Human enough, in fact, that he got up in the morning and even offered to get Finn some coffee. He said no, but it was the thought that counted.

He had been to the Lima Bean countless times in his life. It was one of the few places that he had felt like he belonged when he was in high school. It was his safe place, and by now he considered everyone that worked there his friends.

"Morning, Kurt," the barista, a curvy blond named Brooke said to him as he walked in. "Grande nonfat mocha?"

"Of course," he said, smiling as she went to work on the drink.

"I heard you lost your job," she commented remorsefully. Raising her eyebrows at him, she added, "You know, you _could_ just come work here."

"But then it wouldn't be my hideaway," Kurt pointed out, pulling out his wallet.

"Whatever you say, Kurt," she said. She set the drink on the counter and he handed her a five dollar bill, gesturing for her to keep the change.

He sat down at his regular table and took the lid off to stir his coffee. At the sound of someone pulling the chair across the table from him out, he looked up in surprise.

"Kurt." Smiling at him was the man from the other night. Now that he saw his face again and he was decidedly less hung over, his name popped back into Kurt's mind.

"Blaine," he said. "From the club. What are you doing here?"

"I can't like coffee?" Blaine asked, grinning as he lifted his own white paper Lima Bean cup.

"Maybe the better question is why you're talking to me," he said with a sigh.

Blaine frowned at him, sitting down. "It's back," he said. "That sad look, I mean."

"I'm not sad," Kurt said.

"You're definitely a bit grumpy, though," he said with a shrug.

"This is just me," he said. "Take it or leave it."

"You seemed really fun the other night."

"I was drunk," Kurt argued.

"Well, sure," Blaine said, "but you made the decision to have fun. Do you remember anything from the night before last?"

"Some things, sure," Kurt said. "I know who you are, obviously." He blinked. "I didn't kiss you, did I? Is that what this is about?"

Blaine looked like he was about to say something, but Kurt continued to speak.

"Because I should let you know now that I am _not_ like that. At all."

There was a flicker of something Kurt wasn't entirely sure of (disappointment? Sadness? But what would he be disappointed or sad about?) on Blaine's face, but he quickly brightened. "Don't worry, Kurt, you didn't do anything _untoward_."

"So why exactly are you here?"

"I… you really look really sad," Blaine said.

"I'm fine, honestly," Kurt said, shaking his head. He felt a bit touched, though, that this random man had noticed and was making more of an effort for him than anyone but his father had for nearly as long as he could remember. Not that he would let Blaine know that; then he would never go away. No matter how cute Blaine was—which, Kurt would admit, was pretty cute—he was still the sort of person to approach strangers at bars.

"But you're _not_," Blaine said. "Also, you just lost your job."

"How did you know that?" Kurt asked.

"I'm not creepy, but I heard the woman at the counter say something about it," Blaine said.

"Okay," Kurt said, frowning. "But yeah, that's my secret. That's why I'm sad. But everyone has to deal with stuff like this once in a while, right? Nothing new. As an old friend of mine would put it, I have to put on my big girl panties and—"

"You're overselling it," Blaine said.

"What?"

"You're trying to make me believe that you're sad because you lost your job," he said, "which I would have believed, until you started a bit of a monologue there. It's obvious you don't want to tell me. Which is fine."

"You're not going to pursue it?" Kurt asked, furrowing his brow. Everything Blaine had done so far had suggested that he was _exactly_ the sort of guy to press him for details in a misguided effort to be a hero. Not that Kurt would mind having a hero.

"No," Blaine said, with a shrug.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Life screwed you over," Blaine said, "and I'm not going to be _that guy_ right now."

"What guy?"

"You know, the kind of guy who you think I am. Overly friendly to the point of annoyance, and pushy to get details on people's lives when it has to relevance to him," he said. After a moment, he added, "That first part might actually be me, though."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Okay, sure, whatever. I appreciate you respecting my privacy, now could you just—?"

"No," Blaine cut him off.

"What."

"I am _not_ leaving you alone, since I'm sure that's what you're going to ask," Blaine said. "I have a proposal for you."

Kurt hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously. "Okay, I'll bite," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Before I say this, I need to remind you that I am not a rapist."

"That's always a good thing to hear," Kurt deadpanned.

"Okay, so, I saw you, and you looked really sad," Blaine said, frowning. "And I said to myself, this guy needs something good in his life."

"I have good things in my life," Kurt disputed. "I have a nice apartment, a loving family, and—"

"A list of regrets and broken dreams way too long for someone your age?" Blaine suggested. Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but he silenced him, holding up a finger. "I'm not trying to insult you. I'm just… I want to do something nice for you, because you deserve it."

"You don't even know me," Kurt said, looking at him, confused.

"I know what I need to know," he said. "You've got that look… sad, lonely… I've been there." A sad look crossed his face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by a wide grin. "My proposal is that I take you on an adventure."

"What kind of adventure?"

"I... have you ever played hide and seek, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. "Of course," he said. He was concerned about where Blaine was going with this, but he was still willing to listen.

"Well, this would be sort of like that," Blaine said. "I would go _somewhere_ in the world, and you would try to come find me. Or the other way around, I suppose."

Kurt snorted. "And how would you suggest I _paid_ for that?" he asked. Blaine was enthusiastic and friendly, sure, but it seemed that he was not particularly realistic.

"_You_ wouldn't," Blaine said. "That wouldn't really be me doing anything for you. That would essentially just be you stalking me."

"So instead you're trying to pay to have me stalk you," Kurt said. "Is this some kind of fetish for you, or…?"

"No, no, no!" Blaine said, his voice getting a little louder as he shook his head emphatically. A few people turned to look to see what was going on, and he lowered his voice. "It is _not_ like that at all!"

"But what do you get out of this?" Kurt asked.

"Why do I have to get something out of this?" he asked.

"This could get really expensive really quickly," he said, "and I know people aren't just generous like that for no reason."

"There," Blaine said, gesturing across the table at Kurt.

"What?"

"That right there is _exactly_ why I want to do this," Blaine said. "You are pessimistic. And maybe it's just because you're like that, I don't know, but I just have this feeling the world made you this cold. I just want to help."

"I appreciate the thought, Blaine, but I really don't think this is a good idea."

Blaine looked as if he had been physically struck by the rejection. "Why not?"

"Why would it be anything _but_ a terrible idea, Blaine?" Kurt asked, sounding exasperated.

"I'm not doing anything, you're not doing anything—"

"I need to look for a job," Kurt pointed out. "That's not nothing."

"Don't you see, Kurt?" Blaine asked, looking hopeful. "This is literally _perfect_ timing. You've just lost your job. This is the perfect time for you to go out and do something reckless. You've never been reckless, have you, Kurt?"

"I got irresponsibly drunk the other night," Kurt pointed out.

"That's not reckless, Kurt," Blaine said, "You had a designated driver."

"I don't know you," Kurt said. "And I can't take your money like that."

"You see, Kurt, I am obscenely wealthy. You would be _helping_ me by taking some of it off my hands."

"We met once at a club. It would just be stupid of me to trust you when—"

"You have to take risks sometimes, Kurt. And besides, you don't really even have to see me. I'm more of just… a game master. Giving you a goal that you're trying to get to, but mostly this is just an opportunity for you to get out a little."

"I'm still not sure about this."

"So what you're saying is that you want to stay in small town Ohio for the rest of your life?"

"No, but—"

"Come _on_, Kurt. I'll even give you hints." Blaine sounded like he was getting a bit desperate at this point.

"Hints?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "I can't just have you blind. I mean, I can't be too specific, but you seem like a smart person. I'm sure you'll be able to follow my trail." He took a sip of his coffee, smiling at Kurt. "That is, if you accept my offer, of course."

"I can't just _leave_."

"You lost your job and I'd be sending you money. You have no reason not to follow me." Coming from anyone else, the statement probably would have sounded a bit more worrisome, but somehow it didn't bother Kurt.

It also didn't convince him, either. "My friends—"

"Will understand and be envious."

"It's really just—"

"Kurt, you know those inalienable rights in the Declaration of Independence? They're like life, liberty, and the pursuit of adventure?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "You do know that it's the pursuit of happiness, though, right?"

Blaine shrugged. "That works, too," he said. "Sometimes an adventure is _exactly_ what you need to be happy."

"Seriously, did you even go to elementary school?"

"That's the thing about being filthy rich," Blaine said. "I could just pay people to go for me."

Kurt paused. "Seriously?'

His only answer was a loud laugh.

Kurt looked across the table at the laughing man with dancing eyes and encouraging smile and for a moment he felt a pull in his heart. It was screaming at him to _just say yes, dammit_, but his brain told him to be more careful.

"Do I have to answer now?" Kurt asked.

Blaine perked up, looking like a puppy whose owner had just bought him a new toy. "Of course not," he said, standing. Turning to leave, he said, "Just get back to me when you figure it out."

"Wait, Blaine, I don't have your number," he said urgently.

"Yeah you do," he answered, gesturing at the table, where Kurt's phone was sitting. Kurt unlocked it, bringing up his contacts. Sure enough, there was a Blaine Anderson, and he had the faint recollection of Blaine playing with his phone at the Candy Shop.

When he looked back up, Blaine was gone from the coffee shop. "What an ass," he said under his breath, looking back down at the name and phone number on his screen.

He had a lot of thinking to do.


	2. Learn Chinese Yesterday

_Well, this is extremely overdue. Until the Stars Fall from the Sky took way longer to finish than I had anticipated, and then my grandfather died once I had finished it, which led to me writing Forever Almost. ANYWAYS, here it is. Hope you enjoy it_!

_Also, for anyone that read chapter one back in... January? (eep!), you've probably reread the first chapter since I took so long, but if you haven't, I changed one thing since then to comply with canon: that Blaine does indeed have a brother. That comes up in this chapter, too, so I figured you'd figure it out, but. :)_

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><p>Kurt considered himself to be pretty good at making decisions. He was good at thinking things through and seeing what could happen as a result of his actions. He was usually pretty able to make the best choice. And when he didn't make the best choice, he was able to backtrack enough to fix things that went wrong as a result of his actions.<p>

So of course he saw how this could go wrong, of course. He knew next to nothing about Blaine Anderson, just his name, that he was rich, that he drank Appletinis, and that he was potentially a stalker. This was a risky situation that he was potentially getting himself into. It was, essentially, voluntary kidnapping. He'd probably get raped, beaten, killed, or, hell, sold into prostitution or something. Or any combination of the above. Saying yes to Blaine could, potentially, be the biggest, most dangerous mistake he'd make in his entire life.

At the same time, though, a huge part of him wanted to. In all honesty, Blaine didn't seem dangerous, and maybe he really honestly did have good intentions. Kurt thought back to all of those videos and lessons about "stranger danger" and it struck him that Blaine didn't seem like any of the people in those videos (though he did recall that those videos also said that _anyone_ could be dangerous, but he just had a _feeling_ about Blaine). And besides, if Blaine wanted to do anything bad to Kurt, why wouldn't he have done it when Kurt was drunk and couldn't stop him?

Not to mention the fact that he was wearing a polka dot bowtie. What bad guy ever wore a polka dot bowtie? (At this point, Kurt realized that he was making up ridiculous reasons to trust Blaine, and he wasn't doing himself any help.)

The best thing about Kurt's decision making process, though, was that if he couldn't make a decision, he had a support team to help him make his decisions.

When he got back home, Finn was laying haphazardly across the couch, fiddling with a Rubiks cube. His gaze (well, glare, really) was fixed intensely on the colorful block, turning sides with a look of purpose that Kurt was sure was all for show; Finn had no idea what he was doing.

"Hey," Kurt said, nudging Finn to move his feet so he could sit down on the edge of the couch.

Finn glanced up and gave a quick wave. "Dude, this thing is super hard," he said.

Kurt nodded. "I think that's kind of the point," he said with a sigh.

He nodded, glancing up at him. He continued to glance at the other sides of the cube in silence, looking up at Kurt every few seconds, as if waiting for him to say something. Once he seemed to realize that Kurt wasn't going to say anything, he set the Rubiks cube on the coffee table and sat up. "So," he said, looking at Kurt.

"So."

"Kurt, man, we've known each other for…" he trailed off for a second, looking like he was trying to figure out just how long they'd known each other, then gave up, saying, "years. We've known each other for years, and we've lived together for... a lot of that time. You know, while you weren't in New York and stuff. I know, like, when something's on your mind. You've got that look on your face. And you don't usually just, like, sit there and stare at me. Not since high school."

Kurt let out a sigh, ignoring his stepbrother's final comment and wishing that he didn't know him so well.

"I think that sigh means I'm right," Finn said, looking pleased with himself. Putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward to listen, he asked, "So, what's up?"

Knowing he was caught, he sat back and tried to figure out how to explain the situation with Blaine. "Okay, so, do you remember the guy I met at the Candy Shop?"

Finn nodded. "Did you see him again?" he asked. "Is he gay?"

Kurt blinked. Finn's question brought back a memory of Blaine holding his Appletini and claiming it was for his girlfriend. "Yes," he said. "On both counts."

"Oh, cool," Finn said. "So what's the problem then? Does he have a boyfriend or something?"

He shook his head. "Or, if he does, I don't know," he said. "The problem is, he thinks I'm sad." He saw his brother open his mouth to protest, but he continued before Finn could say anything. "And so he… He offered to pay me to essentially take me around the world in basically the largest scale game of hide and seek ever."

"Whoa," Finn said, "That is _awesome_."

"Well, yeah, but think about it, it's—"

"It's an all-expenses paid worldwide vacation," Finn said, leaning back. "Sounds pretty sweet."

"But I literally just met this guy—"

"You met him two days ago," he offered helpfully.

"I met him at a _club_, and then he suddenly appeared when I went to get my coffee. He could be _stalking_ me for all I know."

"But he also could just be nice," Finn said. "You did go on and on the other night about how nice he was, just like me." He smiled proudly.

"I was drunk," he pointed out.

Finn shrugged. "So, you're not going to do it?"

"I… I'm really not sure," Kurt said. "That's why I told you abo—"

"You should do it," Finn said quickly. "I would, like, kill for an opportunity like that, man. I mean, maybe not with a dude, but you get what I'm saying."

"But don't you think it's risky?"

Finn considered this for a second, then shrugged. "Well, I mean, maybe," he said, "but, like, you're going to be following him, right? Not the other way around. I mean, it's not like you have to be with him the whole time."

"I mean, I guess you're right, it just seems... I mean, he seems like a nice guy. But I say that now and then I get proven ridiculously wrong."

Finn shrugged. "Do what feels right. I think you should do it, but you know, I might just be blinded by the fact that I want you to have something good right now."

Kurt smiled. "Thanks, Finn."

"I care about you, bro," Finn said, standing up. As he walked by, he squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "If you're so concerned about this, maybe you could call Dad, or even, like, Rachel, I guess." Finn and Rachel had broken up years ago, and while things between them weren't bad, they were still a bit awkward and were really only in contact because they were both Kurt's good friends.

"Those both sound like great conversations," Kurt said sarcastically. Burt, no doubt, would get protective and start asking all kinds of questions about Blaine that he would have no idea how to answer, while Rachel would most likely get all squealy and excited and tell him he _had_ to go because it was _fate_, it just _had_ to be _fate_.

Finn shrugged as he crossed the room. "They might help."

Kurt let out a long sigh. "You're right," he said, "but I feel like I already know what they'd say."

"Well, man, you never know," Finn said, picking up their landline from the counter, "and I think you mostly just want to hear other people repeat your thoughts back to you before you throw caution to the wind and here's your chance, baby brother!" He tossed the phone to Kurt, grinning mischievously. "I called Dad for you! Spread your wings and don't hate me!"

Kurt caught the phone out of instinct, then looked at it, wide-eyed. He glared at Finn and putting the phone up to his ear just in time to hear Burt asking, "Is something wrong? It's not usual for you boys to call in the middle of the day."

As Kurt assured him that no, nothing was wrong, he was actually a little bit grateful to Finn for having called Burt on the phone. He just as easily could have gone to the shop or to his house, but that would involve a face-to-face conversation, and Kurt's intimidating looks didn't come from nowhere.

"So, here's the thing…"

* * *

><p>The phone call with Burt lasted for about two hours. There was a lot of talking in circles and talking back and forth, but it was never what anyone would call "arguing". Kurt had been right, of course, that Burt would go all "papa bear" and ask all the questions he could about this mysterious benefactor Blaine Anderson. He had been concerned about how little he knew about Blaine, but in the end he had surprised Kurt by saying that, while he wasn't crazy about the idea, thought that Kurt should consider it.<p>

"I'm just worried about you, is all," he'd said, to which Kurt had replied with some comment about how he was worried about him, so the natural choice was to send him around the world with a near complete stranger. At that point, Burt had sighed into the receiver and said that he was concerned that Kurt might one day look back at his life and regret not taking more risks and while this was a big one, he couldn't really blame him if this was something he really wanted. "Just always keep your phone and maybe a rape whistle on you, and keep your wits about you. You're a smart kid, Kurt. I trust you."

Grudgingly, Kurt decided that he should also consult Rachel, if for no other reason than 1) doing things in threes usually worked out best and 2) Rachel would not be pleased if she found out that Kurt was travelling the world with a—alright, Kurt would admit it—remarkably attractive guy after the fact.

Getting a hold of Rachel was easy. It was almost as if she knew, the way the second he opened up his laptop, an alert from Skype popped up on his screen: _Incoming Call from Rachel_

As he video popped up, Kurt watched her look, eyes narrowed and looking a bit confused, at the screen, then light up when she saw his video come up, too. "Hi, Kurt, long time no see!" she said brightly.

"Hey, Rachel," he greeted, smiling back at her. "How are you?"

"_Brilliant_, as always," she replied, tossing her hair. He almost found it endearing, the way she had not lost any of her _Rachel Berry_-ness (if anything, she had gotten a bit more larger than life). "But how are _you_ doing?"

He tried to ignore the slight hint of pity that he heard in Rachel's voice. _Well,_ he considered, _she might be in New York, but _you_ are the one who was offered a trip around the world._ It was catty, he knew it was, but he decided that since she was so often one to brag (not that he minded, no, of course not), he should take this opportunity to dish it out the way she did. "Actually," he said, "things are starting to look really good for me."

Rachel tilted her head a little bit. "Oh?"

"Well, the other day, Finn and I went to the Candy Shop—"

"That greasy club?" she asked, pulling a face. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but that doesn't really sound particularly good."

"Just hold on," he said, grinning. "I met someone there," he saw her light up at that, and he continued quickly, "and before you think that I'm telling you I've fallen in love and I'm running off to marry him, something even more exciting has happened."

He ignored the smirk Finn was giving him, as well as the thumbs up and mouthed "You're totally going."

Rachel paused, _hmm_ing. "What could be more exciting than that?" she asked. She blinked, then bounced in her seat a bit. "Wait, are you coming back to New York?"

"No," he said, smiling. As much as she was often stuck in her own little world, she did still keep a special place in her heart for Kurt, whether she often showed it or not. "More exciting than that."

She drooped a bit, but looked more eager at the same time, if that was possible (this was Rachel Berry after all, so anything was possibly). "But what could be more exciting than that?"

He grinned. "Well, as it turns out, the guy I met is extremely rich, and is full of wanderlust."

From the kitchen, Kurt heard Finn laugh.

Rachel furrowed her brow, her nose wrinkling slightly. "What does that mean?"

"When I was at the Lima Bean this morning, I saw him again," he said. "And he offered to take me on, essentially, a worldwide game of hide and seek."

Her eyes went wide and she clapped, bouncing up and down. "That's so _romantic!_"

"So you think I should do it?" he asked, though Finn was right: somewhere over the afternoon, he had landed firmly in the camp of throwing caution to the wind and _going_. "Because I'm still not really that sure about—"

"You should _definitely _do it!" she said, her voice high with excitement. "This is… this sounds exactly like a movie! Just think, Kurt, you'll travel the world with him and little by little in such romantic locales as Paris and Venice you'll fall in love and _ooh_, Kurt, doesn't it sound just _lovely_?"

"Slow down there, Rach," he said, shaking his head. "This is a trip. Just a trip. He's giving me clues, and I'm following them. We are not falling in love or anything."

She sighed. "Oh, Kurt," she said. "Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. Remember this conversation. You're totally going to fall in love with this guy."

"I haven't said anything about him," Kurt pointed out. "You don't even know if he's gay."

Rachel laughed. "He's having you chase him around the world. That doesn't exactly scream 'straight' or even 'not interested' to me. Just _imagine_ what those clues might be."

"He's just really nice," he offered, albeit a little bit lamely. At the same time, he was trying to figure out was she thought 'clues' meant.

"You've really switched extremes, Kurt," she said, eyeing him a bit sadly through the camera. "I actually kind of miss the bright-eyed idealism from back when we were first making friends."

He just shrugged, not saying anything because he wasn't really sure that at any point in his life he'd really been an idealist.

"All I'm saying," Rachel carried on, "is that you shouldn't rule it out. People don't just do things like this for no reason. Oh, by the way, is he hot?" She winked at him, laughing.

He rolled his eyes fondly. "Good_bye_, Rachel."

"No, no, wait! I do want to know all about this guy, Kurt. You know how much I love gossip."

Kurt laughed. He _did_ know how much Rachel loved gossip. "Well, I mean, there isn't _that_ much to tell," he said. "I mean, I don't really know him that well." He almost expected her to make some sort of protest about his safety then.

Instead, she just shrugged (she never had been too big on thinking about the potential consequences of her actions). "Tell me what you _do_ know, then," she said. "At least tell me what he looks like. If you're going to fall in love with him, I want to know _all_ about him."

"I'm not going to fall in love with him," he protested again, though this time it was only half-hearted.

She sighed loudly. "You can't imagine it? Driving through the countryside, hopping planes and following his trail? Anxiously waiting for the next time you hear from him? Deny it all you want, Kurt, but I can't see this ending any way but you two riding off into the sunset."

"Okay," he said, "let's assume for a second that I _do_ fall in love with Blaine. I—"

He was cut off by Rachel squealing again. "Blaine," she repeated. "His name is _Blaine_. That's… That is such a romantic movie name." She waited for a second, watching him blink at her, then she shook her head, gesturing for him to continue. "Sorry, sorry, go on."

"Let's pretend I fall in love with him," he repeated, "Who is to say that he falls in love with me back?"

She scoffed. "You already have a foot in the door, Kurt," she said. "Like I said earlier, he totally isn't doing this just because he's nice. You're _hot_, Kurt. Own it."

He rolled his eyes. "Well," he said, "as for your question, Blaine has dark hair, kind of curly, but he gels it down. He's a bit short; I mean, he is a couple of inches shorter than me, I think. He… His face is, well, nice? Like, he just has this ridiculously friendly-looking face."

Rachel nodded. She had her chin in her hands, listening intently. "And his eyes?" she asked.

"Um," Kurt said, frowning. "I'm not really sure, actually. I wasn't paying that much attention."

She sighed. "Kurt, you need to look next time you see him. Those eyes… Someday soon, you're going to sneak a peek over at Blaine and you're going to see those eyes looking right back at you, and you're going to blush and start to look away, but when you look into his eyes, you'll see that they're positively _glimmering_ with love…" She trailed off with a sigh, glancing off into space.

"Uh, Rachel?"

She looked back at the camera. "Oh, right," she said, laughter in her voice. "Anyways, go on. How'd you meet? I know you said you met him at that club," there was a hint of disdain in her voice as she mentioned the Candy Shop, and Kurt was pleased that she shared his low opinion of the club, "but how specifically did you meet? Or were you too drunk to remember it now?" She winked, and then added lowly, "And did you sneak off with him for a little something at the end of the night?"

"No," Kurt said quickly, blushing in spite of himself. He wasn't the same blushing virgin that he had been when he was younger, but the mention still caught him off guard. "We certainly did not. I mean, it was basically just how you meet anyone at the bar. He came up to me, and we started talking."

"But what did he _say_?" she asked.

Kurt blinked. What _had_ Blaine said when he first walked up? He had asked him something, then told him he looked sad. "He asked me if I was a writer," he said, "because he thought I looked thoughtful."

Rachel grinned. "So he had to have been watching you," she mused. "He must have taken a little while to work up the courage to come over and talk to you. _Aww!_"

He sighed, continuing on with the story of the night he met Blaine (all the details that he could remember, of course, because portions of that night, he thought, were never really going to be recovered) and his encounter at the Lima Bean.

As he recounted the stories, he felt the pieces of what he knew about Blaine starting to form the beginnings of a still admittedly _very_ hazy picture.

* * *

><p>He didn't call Blaine that night.<p>

He almost did, had his contacts open and had his finger hovering over the button to call next to _Blaine Anderson_, but he didn't. He reasoned with himself by saying that he shouldn't be so hasty to call Blaine, lest he think of some big reason not to go. And besides, he didn't want to come off as overeager or anything. After all, he had only just seen Blaine at the coffee shop earlier that day, and had been quite dubious at the time.

Kurt waited two days to call, though his initial intention had been to wait three days, as if Blaine's number was one that he'd gotten at a bar and he needed to wait out the customary seventy-two hours. But Finn had continuously asked "Have you called him?" and, when Kurt said no, followed up with, "Why not?" There were only so many times he could be asked before he finally picked up the phone and called.

As it rang, he sat down on a stool at their breakfast bar, while Finn leaned over the counter excitedly, grinning as if it was him that was going.

The first thing that Kurt heard when Blaine picked up was music, cacophonous and with a loud beat, in his ear. As he held the phone a bit away from his face, he felt a bit of worry. What if Blaine was at another club or something, already picking up another guy? What if it was just a joke?

Before he could get too panicked, he heard Blaine's voice, _"God, could you turn that down?"_ followed by the sound of someone else say, _"No,"_ then something quieter about hearing something and going in the hall. Blaine must have stepped out into the hall, because then the sound of the music faded. Then, into the phone, Blaine said, _"Sorry about that. Hello?"_

"Hi, Blaine?" Kurt asked, relieved but feeling a bit silly regardless. He still didn't know who Blaine was with, but it helped that he was somewhere where he could tell whoever it was to quiet it down.

"_Kurt!"_ Blaine answered, sounding genuinely pleased to hear from him. _"I was starting to think you were turning me down but didn't have the heart to tell me." _Despite his overall seemingly nonchalant tone, there was an edge of anticipation in his voice, and Kurt knew that he was anxious about Kurt's answer.

"So I take it the offer still stands?" he asked. Glancing back up at Finn, he noticed that his brother was eyeing the phone nervously.

"_Of course it does,"_ Blaine replied immediately.

"Good," Kurt said. He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip, knowing that this was his final moment to back out without upsetting Blaine or going back on his word (and a Hummel always keeps his word). After a long breath and a nod of encouragement from Finn, he added, "I'd like to take you up on your offer."

There was a rustle of motion on the other end of the line, and Kurt smiled to himself, wondering what exactly Blaine was doing. _"So that's a yes, then?"_ Blaine finally replied, and Kurt can hear the smile in his voice.

"It is," Kurt confirmed. "I'd like to do… whatever exactly this is."

"_An adventure,"_ Blaine replied. _"Capital A, I think. Kurt's Adventure. It's got a nice ring to it."_

He laughed. "But what about you?" he asked, ignoring Finn suggestively wagging his eyebrows and mouthing 'you're flirting'.

"_What?"_

"Shouldn't it be Kurt and Blaine's Adventure, since this is all your idea anyways?"

Blaine laughed. _"Kurt and Blaine's Adventure it is, then,"_ he replied, _"though I can't really take all the credit. You did inspire me."_

It felt a bit forward, and Kurt wasn't exactly sure how to reply.

Luckily, though, Blaine seemed to realize this, letting out a nervous laugh_. "Anyways, um, do you have a passport?"_

Kurt blinked. It hadn't even occurred to him, though he obviously would need to get one. "No," he said. Glancing at the clock on the stove over Finn's shoulder, he added, "I can go to the post office and apply tomorrow."

"_Sounds great,"_ Blaine said brightly. _"That should give you a few weeks to pack and stuff."_

"That works out," he said. After a moment, remembering how little he knew about Blaine, he added, feeling oddly nervous for someone making such a comparatively small offer, "I was thinking that maybe at some point before we started that we could, you know, hang out or something. Just sort of get to know each other a little bit."

He realized quickly that he hadn't really had much cause to be nervous. _"That sounds like a great idea!"_ Blaine said enthusiastically, and Kurt can almost picture his eyes getting wide with excitement, looking almost manic. _"Did you have anything specific in mind?"_

Kurt shrugged before he realized that Blaine couldn't see the gesture. "Not really," he said. "If you have any ideas, I'd be glad to hear them."

"_I'm sure I can find a relatively quiet place for us to talk,"_ he offered_. "You just worry about that passport, alright?"_

"Sure," he answered. "Thanks."

There was a while where they don't say anything, and there's silence except for the quiet static of the phones. Kurt fiddled with the keys that Finn had left on the counter (he silently reminded himself to reacquaint Finn with the hook by the door), wondering if he was supposed to say something more.

After a moment, Blaine finally said, _"Well, um, I guess we'll be in touch?"_

"Yeah," he agreed. "You can reach me at this number. Call me whenever."

* * *

><p>He heard back from Blaine another couple of days later. He had wondered vaguely if Blaine was waiting for him to call first, but Kurt figured that he had a few weeks to wait for his passport to arrive in the mail, and so a couple of days weren't really that significant, and he still didn't want to seem overeager. And now that he had applied for his passport, the reality of the situation was starting to really hit him, and he was simultaneously growing more excited and more nervous. This could go so well or so badly.<p>

On top of all that, he was still almost waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath him. At any moment, he'd spot the cameras and Blaine would come around the corner laughing and saying that he should have _seen_ his face, it was priceless, God, did he _actually_ believe he was going on a trip around the world?

But, finally, he got a text message from Blaine: _Lima Bean, 4:30?_

He had tapped out a simple reply (_See you then_) and was almost tempted to head out for the coffee shop then, but it was only noon and he wasn't sure that he could actually justify spending four and a half hours sitting at a table doing nothing but just _waiting_ for someone.

So he walked in at a reasonable 4:25 and finds Blaine already sitting at the table he'd sat down when they'd met there a few days prior (wow, had it really only been a few days?).

"I would have gotten you a coffee," Blaine said, "but I don't know your coffee order. I'm not _that_ creepy."

"I wouldn't have been surprised, though," Kurt replied.

Blaine looked a bit offended and he opened his mouth to protest before Kurt laughed. Nonetheless, he pouted, "I'm not _that_ creepy."

Kurt chuckled. "Whatever you say. Anyways, I'm going to go get a coffee, I'll be right back," Kurt said, turning and walking away from Blaine and the table.

Once he got his coffee and had successfully ignored the barista (a petite brunette named Jessica, not the same one from the other day, though by now chances were the rumor mill had all the Lima Bean employees on alert for Kurt on anything that might have resembled a date)'s suggestive comments, he sat down across from Blaine.

"You know," Blaine said, "I had intended to take you back to my apartment, and I was about to tell you that and assure you that my roommates aren't around, but I realized how bad that would have sounded. It's just that my roommates are… Well, suffice it to say I didn't want them to freak you out or anything, but then I didn't think about the possibility of _me_ freaking you out."

Kurt blinked. The logical part of him said that going to Blaine's apartment knowing it was empty was a stupid idea. At that point, he might as well have handed Blaine his coffee and said 'here, put some roofies in here'. But at the same time, Blaine _had_ just acknowledged how sketchy it sounded, and he could practically feel Jessica staring at them and possibly taking notes on their behavior. "Well, do you promise not to assault me once we are in your apartment without your roommates?"

He held up his hands in an innocent gesture. "Promise," he said. Folding his hands around his coffee once more, he added with a smirk, "As you may or may not recall, I did confirm for you the other night that I am neither a mean rapist nor a nice rapist."

"Neutral, then?" Kurt offered.

"On my honor, I swear that I am not a rapist of any variety," Blaine said.

Kurt nods, considering it. "How far from here _is_ your apartment?" he asked.

"Well, it's not too far," he offered, which really wasn't all too helpful.

Still, Kurt stands back up and gestures for Blaine to do the same. "I'm not going to leave my car here, so I'll follow behind you?" he suggested.

"Sure, sure," Blaine said, scrambling to get up and walk towards the door.

* * *

><p>Blaine's apartment was <em>nice<em>. This fact shouldn't have surprised Kurt, considering the way he was willing to throw potentially thousands of dollars at someone he'd just met. Walking inside, though, he was overwhelmed by how big it had to be.

The door opened into the living room, where the walls were white, which might have helped it look bigger than it was. Being that the apartment was inhabited by a few men in their twenties, there weren't many decorations or pictures on the walls, but it had all kinds of potential. The room was big, so there was plenty of room to hang things. Overall, the room worked well, though. A light blue couch and recliner and a glass coffee table were situated on a dark blue rug, the chairs facing a television hanging on the wall. Nothing clashed, which Kurt was grateful for, but it looked a bit… bland. Looking around, ideas flowed into his mind.

"It's a bit messy," Blaine said apologetically as he looked around the room, pulling Kurt from his hypothetical interior decorating. "My roommates are…. Their lifestyles are too fast to have time to pick up after themselves."

Kurt clicked his tongue. "Are you actually making excuses for them? Or do you actually believe that?" he asked, laughing.

"I'm trying to make it look like I don't live with a bunch of slobs," Blaine said, walking further into the apartment. He glanced through a doorway, grimacing before turning back to Kurt. "I would offer to make you something to eat, but, um… The kitchen has seen better days."

Kurt couldn't help but take a glance in the kitchen. There were bowls stacked by the sink and there was a small pot full of something he couldn't identify left on the counter, though he'd definitely seen worse kitchens. But he definitely recognized the feeling that everything was overwhelmingly unpleasant when showing someone new around. "Have any idea what that is?" he asked, gesturing at the pot.

Blaine frowned, leaning over and sniffing. "No," he said, "I really, really don't." He grabbed a Chinese food menu off of the front of the fridge and tried to usher Kurt out of the room. "Want Chinese? This place is great."

He took it, smirking down at the panda on the front. "Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to distract me from the dubious pot?"

"Because I am," Blaine said, cautiously reaching for Kurt's arm. When he didn't protest, he pulled him back into the living room and gestured for him to sit. Turning around to where there was clothing piled mostly _around_ a laundry basket, he started to pick some of the shirts up and tossing them inside, saying, "Pick out whatever you want."

Kurt smiled at Blaine's hasty attempts to clean up. In all honesty, the slight disarray of the clothes and scattered books and balled up pieces of paper around the room made it feel more real. He could picture people living here, reading those books and throwing balls at each other, missing the laundry bin as they took off their shirts. That was weird, though, so he didn't say any of that.

Once the clothes were all in (and mounding over the top of) the laundry basket, Blaine moved to sit down on the couch beside Kurt. "Find anything?"

He shrugged. "Tso's chicken?"

"Done," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "You want wontons?" He paused, then added, "Actually, I want some wontons. I think we're getting wontons."

The list of things that Blaine wanted got longer and longer the more he looked over the menu, thinking aloud the whole way through. It seemed as if, for every item on the menu, either Blaine wanted it or one of his roommates would want it.

Once Blaine placed the order, he noticed the look Kurt was giving him. "I'm rich," he reminded him, "and I have roommates when I could easily live on my own. So I can splurge on food. And travelling with strangers."

Kurt shrugged. "I didn't say anything," he said, "You can eat all the ridiculous amounts of Chinese food you want." He blinked, frowning down at the menu, now sitting on the table. "Is this a clue?"

"What, the Chinese food?" Blaine asked. "No, but that would be pretty smart." After a moment, he grinned. "I might drop some hints today, though."

"I'll keep an ear out, then," Kurt said.

They didn't say anything more then, waiting for the food to arrive and watching an old episode of Lingo and shouting out words as they came to mind.

When there was a knock on the door, Blaine disappeared to get it.

He came back with two big brown paper bags wrapped in plastic bags. "Here we have it," he said, setting them down on the coffee table and starting to pull things out of them. He went into the kitchen, coming back with plates, forks, and chopsticks. "Well, help yourself."

They scooped food onto their plates and ate in relative silence, except for their continued passive playing of Lingo.

"You know," Kurt remarked, "that smiley face doesn't look as happy as they usually do." The smiley face in question, printed on the side of the plastic bag, had a less steep smile than most plastic bag smileys had.

Blaine glanced at it. "Oh, huh."

"I guess it's more honest," Kurt said. "I'm never _that_ excited about Chinese food."

Blaine shifted then, glancing over at Kurt. "So, you said you wanted to get to know me," he said.

"I do," he said. "It would make me feel better about, you know, taking your money and traveling around the world with you."

Blaine nodded. "And I'd like to get to know you, too," he said, smiling. "Twenty questions?"

"Sure," he agreed. "Quick question though, twenty questions each, or twenty questions total?"

"How about we just start with twenty total?" he suggested. "And we can go from there.

"Sure," he said. "Let's start simple. One: name and age? It's one question because I already know half the answer."

"Blaine Anderson, twenty-five," he said, then gestured vaguely. "Two. Same question."

"Kurt Hummel," he said. "Twenty-four." He paused, then added, "Three: college?"

"Ohio State," he said. He paused, looking at Kurt as if expecting to find his next question written on the other man's face. After a moment, he asked, "Four. Any siblings other than Finn?"

He shook his head. "Just Finn," he said. "Who technically is my stepbrother and only has been since high school, but by now it feels like he's always been around. Five, what is your sibling situation?"

"One brother," Blaine answered. "He's… he's an actor, and we don't really talk much." Before Kurt could ask anything else, even what Blaine's brother's name was, he continued, "Six: When you say Hummel… are you related to Burt Hummel?"

Kurt nodded, smiling. "That'd be my dad," he said. "Seven: you're a supporter, right?" Counting back in his head, he realized that Blaine would have been old enough to vote when his father ran for Congress.

"Of course," he said. "Arts, gay rights… that stuff matters." He smiled, adding, "So I figure he was in Washington, DC a lot. Eight: have you ever been to DC?"

"Nope," he said. Smirking, he added, "Nine: was that a clue?"

"I refuse to answer that question," Blaine said. "Ten: play any instruments?"

Kurt laughed. "So we're going to DC," he said. "Noted. But yes, I play the piano. I mean, I haven't in a while, but I can." He shrugged, glancing around the room. "Eleven, though I'm not sure that nine should count since you didn't actually answer: are you a dog person or a cat person?"

"Hey now, might not be going to DC immediately," he said. "And dogs, definitely. Not that I don't like cats. Twelve, is there anywhere on the planet where you really don't want to go?"

Kurt shrugged. "I never really thought about it," he answered. "I suppose I'm pretty much good for anything. Thirteen, is there anywhere _you_ wouldn't go?"

"I'd avoid homophobic countries, for obvious reasons," he said. "You know, ones with persecution laws. I'd just opt to avoid the entire country, you know?"

"I can respect that," Kurt said, nodding. He had forgotten in his excitement that there were countries with such laws.

"Fourteen… umm… have you ever camped out for a movie or product or anything?"

Kurt blinked, shaking his head quickly. "No," he said quickly. "Definitely not."

"The gentleman doth protest too much," Blaine said, eyeing him warily.

"It's nothing _weird_, I'd just rather not tell you," he said, shrugging. Blinking, he said, "Fifteen: high school extracurriculars? Careful how you answer: I will judge you based on your answer, and I won't know if you lie."

Blaine laughed. "I was in my school's show choir," he said. Rubbing the back of his neck as if to look meek, "I was the lead soloist, actually. Anyways, sixteen: did you grow up around here?"

"Don't think I didn't notice your little brag there," Kurt said. "And no, of course not, I made the decision to move to the asscrack of nowhere Ohio."

"Point taken," he said, laughing. "So, why don't you just leave? Oh, and I guess that's seventeen, sorry for skipping."

"I mean, I did, for a while," Kurt said, though the look he gave Blaine then told him that it would be best for him to not press it. "Eighteen: if you could find out when and how you die, would you want to know?"

"No way," Blaine said. "I mean, what if I find out that I die _tomorrow_? I'd just as soon not know."

"Fair point," he said. "I like how quickly you answered. I've spent ages thinking about that one."

"I've thought about it, too," Blaine offered. "Nineteen: if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?"

Kurt blinked, setting the carton of rice he'd been picking at back on the table. "Really, Blaine? Really? You had one question left, and you asked me that?"

"It was a question," Blaine said, shrugging. "And I didn't hear an answer, Kurt."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open.

"Blainers, you would not believe who I ran—oh, you have company," a dark-skinned man who appeared to be about the same age as them appeared in the door, keys in hand.

"This would be Kurt," Blaine said, standing up, and the guy nodded. Kurt realized that the recognition meant that Blaine had mentioned him to his roommates (he wasn't quite sure how to handle that information just yet, so he stored it away for later). Turning to Kurt, Blaine said, "Kurt, this is Bennett, he's one of my roommates."

Kurt smiled politely, standing up just in time for Bennett to rush up to him and pull him into a hug.

"Nice to meet you, bro," he said, patting Kurt's back before moving back. Seeing that Kurt looked a bit surprised by the move, he said, "Sorry, I'm a big hugger."

"He is," Blaine offered. "I should have warned you."

"No big deal," Kurt said. As Bennett shared whatever story it was that he'd been intending to tell Blaine, Kurt shifted his weight from foot to foot for a second, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. Bennett was aiming his story at both Kurt _and _Blaine, obviously doing his best to make him comfortable, but it made him feel a bit off. He felt like he was pushing himself into Blaine's life. He and Blaine weren't even friends, really, and hanging out with his roommates felt like a bit much. "Anyways, um, I should get going."

"If you and Blaine want some alone time, I can go grab some toilet paper or something," Bennett offered.

"No, no, it's fine," Kurt said, crossing the room. To Blaine, he said, "Finn will probably be wondering where I am. Thanks for the food, and I'll talk to you soon."

Blaine paused, then rushed back over to the coffee table. "Wait," he said, "you didn't have a fortune cookie." He walked back towards the door, three fortune cookies in his hand. He handed one to Kurt and offered the second to Bennett, who shook his head and disappeared to set down his bag.

Kurt removed the cookie from the plastic and cracked it open. What he was instantly greeted with was the side telling him to Learn Chinese. _Weather_, it said, _tian qi._

"Learn Chinese. Yesterday," Blaine read aloud. "Well, it's a bit late for that, don't you think?"

Kurt laughed, flipping his fortune over. "The only thing we know for sure about future developments is that they will develop."

"So basically, all we know is that stuff is going to happen?" Blaine asked.

"Basically," he said, smiling. "What about yours?"

Blaine grinned down at his. "A light heart carries you through all the hard times. I like it."

Kurt nodded. It sounded like the sort of thing that Blaine, the man of the eternal smiles, would like by.

"Anyways, um, I'll take your trash for you," Blaine said, holding out his hand.

Kurt dropped his wrapper and fortune into Blaine's hand.

As he walked out the door, he noticed Blaine sticking both their fortunes into his pocket with a smile, though he didn't say anything.


	3. Magic

**Okay, wow, I am _awful_. I am really sorry for how long this took. Any inspiration I had for this fic just completely disappeared for the longest time. But, I am tentatively promising another update within a few weeks this time. If not, bust my ass about it! Please!**

* * *

><p>Things started to get more real for Kurt once his passport arrived in the mail. Looking at the information spread across the page, flipping through the as-of-yet blank pages (who knew/ how many stamps he'd end up getting, and from where? The thought set off a little thrill down his spine), just feeling the weight of it in his hands... it all felt ridiculously real. He was going to pack a bag and travel around the world with essentially a random guy. And he wasn't even that worried about it anymore.

The day it arrived in the mail, he sent a text to Blaine informing him of the arrival. He got no reply until the next afternoon: _Coffee?_

He went about getting ready to see Blaine, putting just a touch of extra effort in, because even if _he_ wasn't really interested, Rachel might be right that Blaine liked _him_.

Once he picked up his phone again, he found another text message from Blaine: _I'm going to go ahead and order you your mocha. If you don't come, it'll just go to waste._

He rolled his eyes fondly as he grabbed his keys and headed towards the door. "Finn, I'm going to get coffee with Blaine."

"Wait," Finn said, poking his head out of his room. "Could you, ah... I want to meet Blaine sometime before you guys leave. So, you know, could you, like, let him know or give him my number or something so that we can get in touch?" He shuffled a bit awkwardly, and Kurt could tell that this was Finn's way of saying he wanted to make sure Kurt was safe.

"Sure thing," he said, smiling.

Finn perked. "Thanks," he said. "See you later."

Kurt watched him as he disappeared back into his room, then ducked out of the apartment himself.

* * *

><p>Once he got to the Lima Bean, he almost walked to the counter before remembering that Blaine had, in theory, ordered his drink for him. Looking around the room, he found Blaine sitting at a table in the corner.<p>

Once Blaine saw him, his face lit up like a puppy whose owner had just come home. Grinning as Kurt walked over to him, he held both hands out to gesture at the table where, as promised, a coffee cup sat.

"Thanks," Kurt said, taking a sip and making a small noise of approval.

Blaine nodded, his smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. "And thank you for coming," he said. "I thought you might want to have another get-to-know-you session, since we can essentially leave, well… any time now, with your passport ready."

"I have one thing that I need for you to do before we leave Ohio, though," he said, to which Blaine raised an eyebrow. "My brother wants to meet you."

Both of Blaine's eyebrows went up then, and he nodded slowly. "Understandable," he said, setting his coffee down to give Kurt a thumbs-up. "He wants to make sure I'm not a creep or anything, right?" He paused for a second, during which Kurt was scrambling for a way to say that it wasn't like that even though it really was, but before he could say anything, Blaine chuckled and continued. "I can definitely respect that."

There was something in Blaine's expression that he couldn't quite read, but he decided not to comment on it. "I wouldn't be too worried about it, though," Kurt said instead. "Finn is a nice guy, and he'll be able to tell that you are, too."

Blaine leaned forward then, grinning at Kurt. "You think I'm a nice guy?"

He rolled his eyes fondly. "No, you strike me as a terrible person," he said, "which is why I'm willing to travel the globe with you."

"It could happen."

Kurt raised an eyebrow as he eyed him. "Could it?"

"Well, probably not," Blaine said with a shrug, "but the fact is that I have no way to know that you're not just ridiculously impulsive."

He paused for a moment, considering this. "Ah," he said, "but I waited for a few days before saying that I am doing this. Does that scream impulsive to you?"

Blaine clicked his tongue. "Alright, you've got me there," he said.

Kurt smiled at the fact that he had won before taking another sip of his coffee. "Can I just give him your number, then?" he asked. "So he can call you and arrange something?"

"Sure," he agreed, nodding. "Sounds good to me."

"He's a really nice guy," Kurt went on. "And I'm sure that he'll try to intimidate you or something, but don't worry about it. He's basically harmless."

"Basically," Blaine echoed.

He nodded, shrugging. "Well, I mean, he is," he said. "He's pretty strong, so he _could_ hurt someone, but I don't think he would unless someone hurt him or his first."

Blaine hummed as he nodded. "I can see that," he said. "He looked like a nice enough guy."

"See, I _know_ you did meet him, but the details on that are a bit fuzzy."

He leaned in, grinning widely. "Oh, right. You said that you don't remember some things about the night we met," he said. "I mean, you were certainly drunk enough, but…" He trailed off, sending a wink across the table at Kurt.

Kurt frowned slightly, taking a long sip of his coffee. "So, you met Finn."

There was a pause during which Blaine just grinned at him, and for a moment Kurt was concerned that he wasn't going to let him get away with it. But then he just nodded, explaining, "I walked you out so that you'd reach him safely. I was around just long enough to hear you tell him all about how nice I am."

The look on Blaine's face was all too pleased in Kurt's opinion, so he just rolled his eyes and pointedly ignored him. "The point is, Finn is a really nice guy, and I'm sure that he'll approve of you or whatever," he said. To illustrate his point, he launched into a story from a couple years back, wherein Finn had upset Kurt and spent the next week quietly setting cartons of ice cream next to him on the couch as a sort of apology.

He was so lost in his story that it took him a moment to realize that Blaine wasn't even paying attention.

Instead, he was just staring down at the table and smiling as if it had told a joke that he was embarrassed to have found funny and he was trying not to laugh.

"What's going on in your head right now?" Kurt asked. He was suddenly reminded of his first encounter with Blaine at the Candy Shop, when Blaine had walked up to him asking what he was thinking about. He barely suppressed the urge to ask Blaine if he was an author.

"The thing is," Blaine started, pausing after a second and letting out a breath that was almost a laugh. He gestured vaguely before continuing, "I'm trying to figure out a way to ask you to come see an area behind my apartment without sounding creepy."

Tilting his head to the side slightly, Kurt laughed. "It really seems like creepy is an ongoing thing with us."

"I've never done so many things that could be construed as creepy before I met you," Blaine said with a grin. "Which means it must be you."

"What you're saying is, I make you do creepy things."

"Things that could be construed as creepy," he corrected.

Kurt shrugged. "If I construe them as creepy, then they are."

Blaine raised an eyebrow, asking, "And do you?"

"No," he answered after a moment. "I can't reconcile the image of you and anything creepy."

He grinned at that. "Well then," he said. "There's something magical that you need to see behind my apartment."

* * *

><p>When they got back to Blaine's apartment complex, Blaine insisted that they went inside because he knew that Bennett was home.<p>

Sure enough, when he swung the front door open, Bennett looked up from his spot on the couch, raising a hand in a quick wave before returning to focusing on an iPad on his lap.

"Bennett," Blaine said, causing the other man to snap his head up in surprise.

"Oh," he said. "I thought you guys were popping in for a quickie."

"_Bennett_," he said in that sort of stage-whispering way that you only said a person's name when they'd said something horrendously embarrassing. Before Kurt had time to wonder about that, though, Blaine continued, "I'm taking Kurt out to the fields, so I figured that you should probably know that."

"You never take me out to the fields," Bennett said, placing a hand over his heart on his chest. He chuckled, adding, "So, why do I need to know this?"

"If I was planning on kidnapping and murdering Kurt," Blaine started, then paused to turn to Kurt and assure him quietly that he was _not_ planning on doing so before finishing, "I would plan to not have any witnesses. Now, if Kurt goes missing—which he won't—then he can rest assured that you could point the cops right at me."

Bennett shrugged at that. "I don't know… If you went to jail, I'd have to pay more rent," he pointed out.

At Kurt's raised eyebrows, Blaine turned to him and assured him, "Bennett is a kind fellow and would definitely rat me out to the cops."

Kurt couldn't help himself to chuckle a little bit. After all, he was sure he wasn't really counting on Bennett for anything; this reassurance was more for Blaine's benefit than anything else.

Bennett shrugged again, pushing himself up from the couch and walking over to Kurt. "Alright, I've got an idea," he said, looking down to tap at the screen of the iPad. "You look like you've got pretty good fashion sense—"

"Pretty good?" Kurt echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah," Bennett said, eyeing Kurt for a second before nodding and returning his attention to the iPad. "Impeccable. Amazing, outstanding. Take your pick. Anyways, scarf time." He lifted up the iPad to his face and turned it around, a multicolored plaid scarf on the screen. "This..." He turned the iPad around again, tapping the screen a few more times before lifting it again, now with a darker plaid scarf displayed. "Or this?"

Kurt paused for a second, looking at Bennett's face. "The colorful one," he answered. "You'd have to pick what you wear it with wisely, but I think it'll work better."

He returned back to the first scarf, looking at it for a second before nodding in approval and returning to the couch. "Good call," he said.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, darling," Blaine said, moving to lean against the back of the couch and raise an eyebrow at Bennett, "but what was the purpose of this exercise?"

"One, I needed a new scarf," he answered, putting a finger up. "And two," these words were accompanied by a second finger coming up, "In exchange for helping me pick a scarf, I will tell the cops the truth so that his death may be avenged."

Blaine pointed at Bennett and gave Kurt a look that made it clear to him that the pair had been friends for a while and were comfortable in the understanding that any exasperation would not be taken the wrong way. "This guy," he said, shaking his head as he stood back up and went to the door, gesturing for Kurt to follow.

Once they were in the hallway, Kurt turned to Blaine with a questioning look. "The fields?"

Blaine shook his head, shushing him. "I told you, we're going to see something magical," he said. "That's all you need to know right now."

Kurt let out a long sigh. "A magical field."

"A magical field," Blaine echoed, grinning widely. "A journey through a magical field. Sounds like a pretty great set-up for a fantasy movie."

"Alright, sure, Legolas," Kurt said, rolling his eyes fondly.

Blaine grinned and said something under his breath as they walked down the stairs that sounded suspiciously like, "And not a single hobbit joke was made."

To direct Kurt around the building so they could go around to the back, Blaine slipped a hand around Kurt's upper arm, gently tugging.

What Kurt saw probably shouldn't have been a surprise. It was a literal field, complete with some flimsy wire fence and slightly overgrown grass, though there didn't appear to be anything particularly magical about it.

"Am I missing—" he started to ask, but Blaine shushed him, pulling him towards a sidewalk leading off into, from what Kurt can tell, was a path lined by trees.

"You'll get what I'm saying later," Blaine explained, lifting a hand to gesture vaguely. "We need to wait for it to get dark, not that this is the field I was talking about anyways."

"Different field, then," Kurt said, nodding slowly. "Noted."

Blaine nodded, letting go of Kurt's arm and letting his hand drop as they started down the path. "It'll start to get dark relatively soon, so I figured I could take you for a walk until then."

And so they did.

As they walked, Blaine explained that the path was one that was, in theory, for residents of the complex to use to exercise or whatever else one did with a trail behind their house. In practice, however, it was mostly left alone except for when Blaine wanted to think.

They reached a wood gazebo shortly after starting, which Blaine quickly walked over to and sat down in, urging Kurt to do the same.

"This is the best part," he said brightly. "Like, we're going to come back here for the sunset and nightfall and stuff, when the magic happens." He gestured out into the fields beyond where they were, and Kurt could definitely see where it would be a good place to watch a sunset.

Kurt sat down on a bench on the opposite Blaine, and for a moment they just watched each other, and Kurt wasn't really sure if the silence was awkward or not.

By the time Kurt started feeling obligated to say something, Blaine tilted his head back and started to whistle.

"What are you whistling?" he asked, and just like that Blaine stopped, snapping his head back down to look at Kurt.

"Nothing," he answered, flashing Kurt a grin as he stood back up. "C'mon."

"Alright," Kurt said, pushing himself to his feet and joining Blaine where he has gotten back on the path. "But why do I feel like that moment was significant?"

"Because you're a high school English teacher," Blaine said. He stayed silent for a moment, looking at Kurt with a raised eyebrow.

"No," he said. "You _know_ I don't have a job."

Blaine shrugged, simply saying, "But you used to have a job."

"Well, it definitely wasn't being a high school English teacher," he said. "I spent enough time in high school as it was, I would never _volunteer_ to go back."

There was a moment where Blaine's mouth was slightly open and it looked like he wanted to ask something, but ultimately decided against it. "Not a writer, not an English teacher," he said instead. "I'm sensing a theme. I'm sure I'm on the right track."

Kurt rolled his eyes and was about to tell Blaine that it wasn't like his past occupation wasn't a secret, but looked back down quickly at the realization that, in a way, Blaine _was_ on the right track.

Blaine had apparently been watching him, and had caught the moment. Grinning widely, he said, "I am, aren't I? You were involved in prose, weren't you?"

"I worked in a bookstore," he said.

Blaine honest to god laughed. "I _knew_ you were a literature sort of guy," he said.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt pointed out, "You based the thought that I was a writer on the fact that you thought I looked thoughtful."

"And you were watching people," Blaine supplied helpfully. "But really, Kurt, I'm just the sort of person who is extremely good at making judgements about people."

Kurt was about to open his mouth to make a comment about that when he realized that the sidewalk was about to end. "Are we turning back?"

"No, of course not," he answered, gesturing at how the grass beyond the end of the pavement was beaten down by use. "There's still a path."

"But are we supposed to go down it?" he asked.

"Kurt, you see that people have stomped down the grass, right?" he said. He paused before adding, "I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'll figure that out later."

"Isn't there a Robert Frost poem like that?" he asked.

Blaine considered that for a second before shaking his head. "There's not a fork in the road," he said, "Not to mention we're going on a path that people _have_ used." He took Kurt's arm again, starting down the grassy path. "Alright, definitely not an English teacher."

Kurt smacked Blaine's arm lightly, rolling his eyes. "I could be an English teacher," he said. "If I wanted to."

Blaine didn't say anything, just started whistling again. Kurt couldn't tell if it was the same song from earlier.

They walked for a while like that, Blaine whistling and Kurt occasionally looking over at him curiously. Eventually they reached a gate, which Blaine immediately proceeded to jump over.

Kurt took a step backwards, his eyes wide as he watched him. Blaine had turned around to face him, raising an eyebrow. "What? Trust me, it's really easy to get over, you just—"

"I'm pretty sure you're trespassing."

"What?"

"Trespassing. You know, going on other people's property?" he asked.

Blaine looked down at the ground, as if thinking that it would tell him who the land belonged to. "Kurt, I've gone down here dozens of times. The path goes on, and if you keep walking, you reach a public road. Also, I've never been arrested for it."

"There's a first time for everything," Kurt commented, frowning at him. Blaine returned the frown, though, and though Kurt tried his best to resist it, it was one of those frowns that made you just want to do anything to make them go away. So he grabbed onto the cold metal of the fence and swung a leg over.

Blaine grinned at him, already continuing down the path. "I promise you that you won't regret it. Seriously."

Kurt bit his lip, trying not to think about the fact that Finn had told him the same thing (_I swear, dude, you won't regret it_) about going to the Candy Shop, leading him to meet Blaine. He just let that fact silently reassure him that this was a good idea.

"So, where exactly are we going?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt before answering with a laugh, "_Everywhere_."

Kurt breathed out a sigh. "Well, that's great and all, Blaine, but I'm asking about, say, the immediate future," he said.

"You'll see," he answered, which Kurt privately thought was about as helpful of an answer as his previous one.

It didn't take long for Kurt to decide that maybe he should have trusted his initial instincts and not followed Blaine over the fence. The path was mostly reasonable, well patted down, but at parts it was a bit muddy and walking on muddy ground was just, as a rule, unpleasant.

It only got worse when Blaine started to look out at the trees they were passing by, mumbling things along the lines of "is it this one?" and "no, wait, it's coming up" and "I definitely passed it already".

"What are you looking for?" Kurt finally asked.

"It's… It's another kind of magical thing," Blaine said. A second later, he clicked his tongue, pointing out at a group of trees. "There. That's the one."

The trees in question were several yards back from the path, and though Kurt could see the faintest sort of path in the tall, uncontrolled grass leading out from where he was, it wasn't much of anything. And he could hear running water, which just sounded like a bit of a recipe for disaster.

Before he could voice any of these concerns, Blaine was grabbing onto his hand and pulling him away from what now seemed about as perfect footing as the paved sidewalk they'd been on earlier.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kurt asked, noticing how Blaine took a step but quickly drew his foot back a second later.

Blaine looked back at him, nodding. "Of course," he said. "I come here a lot. It's just been a while, which is why I didn't remember exactly where it is or where exactly is safest to step."

Kurt paused, shaking his head. "I really don't think that whatever this is is worth it," he said.

"You haven't seen it yet," Blaine protested.

"I don't want to fall in the water."

"It's a tiny stream. Seriously, barely a creek."

"It's still water."

"I'll carry you."

Those words gave Kurt pause, looking over Blaine's body. "I'm way taller than you."

"I wouldn't say _way_ taller," he protested, stepping in close to Kurt and looking up as if trying to compare their heights. "But regardless, I'm strong."

Kurt was about to protest the point again, to say something about how it would just be awkward for Blaine to try to carry him, when he found himself no longer on the ground. He let out a sort of yelp, to which Blaine quickly shushed him.

"I'm still not planning on murdering you," Blaine said, starting moving again. Really, it was only a few feet, and it probably would have been more convenient for the both of them if Kurt had just walked. But, well, he wasn't about to start yelling at Blaine to put him down.

When Blaine set him down again, he looked around, almost in disbelief. It was almost as if the trees had formed a sort of cave around them. There was light from outside filtering in through the leaves, but the way the trees had grown and fallen and settled had allowed them to block the view of most of everything outside the small circle.

And finally, Kurt could see the water that he'd been hearing, curling through the tiny area quietly. Blaine was right; there was hardly any water in it at all, but that was most definitely not the point.

Blaine walked over to a fallen tree trunk, sitting down on it and patting the bark next to him in invitation.

Kurt sat down next to him, finding himself more distracted by the proximity of their thighs than the dirt that he was no doubt getting on his pants (any chance of not getting his pants dirty had been shot to hell the second Blaine left the path).

"How did you find this?"

Blaine shrugged, tilting his head back to look up at the sky through the leaves. "I just… did," he said. "I mean, I spend a lot of time just sort of exploring back here. There's a bunch of farm animals farther down, too."

Kurt ended up losing track of how much time they spent in the little hideaway, Blaine talking about various things he'd seen with and without his roommates (including once when he _swears_ he saw a bear, but he'd been alone so it had turned into a running joke within his apartment) and Kurt listening.

Well, half-listening, anyways. The thing was that Kurt was finding himself drifting off into daydreams.

It started out with just this place. It was the sort of place that was just inherently relaxing. It was silent, save for the quiet sound of the water and the happy lilt of Blaine's voice. It felt like the kind of place that Kurt would like to go when he was feeling stressed out. He'd never been much for camping, but maybe he could. He could grab a blanket and a pillow and just lay on the ground and sleep there, staring up at the stars.

But then his mind started to incorporate the words that Blaine was saying. He found himself picturing himself as part of it, going out with Blaine and Bennett and just walking out into the backyard they shared with their entire apartment complex. He could become part of Blaine's stories, a person whose name on his lips was so clearly fond and familiar.

He did his best to nip the thoughts in the bud. It wasn't even anything about Blaine, really. It was just that it had been a while since he'd felt like he was a part of something, he decided, and that Blaine was just ridiculously friendly and he seemed like the sort of guy you would want to be around.

And besides, Kurt _was_ going to be a part of Blaine's stories. Blaine was taking him around the _world_; of course he'd have stories.

"Kurt?"

It took Kurt a moment to realize that Blaine was standing in front of him, trying to get his attention.

"Are you going to pass out?" he continued. "I don't have smelling salts. I don't even really know what those are."

Kurt laughed, shaking his head as he stood up. "No, just thinking."

"I figured," Blaine said with a nod. "I mean, you kind of looked the same way you did when I first saw you." He looked at Kurt for another moment as if he was trying to figure out the significance there, but shook his head a moment later. "Anyways, we should head back. The sun is going to start to go down soon."

Kurt blinked in surprise, looking between the leaves and branches towards the sky, where he realized that it could in fact be that late. "Alright," he said. "Let's go."

"Do I have to carry you again?" Blaine asked, flashing him a grin.

He rolled his eyes, shoving Blaine and walking out in front of him, quickly and wordlessly making his way back to the path.

Blaine followed behind him closely, a grin on his face. "I'm so proud of you," he said teasingly, bumping their shoulders together as he stepped back onto the path.

The sky was starting to show signs of the sunset, the sun seeming to glow a bit brighter the way it seemed to like to do in the evenings. Blaine bit his lip at the sight of it, shaking his head. "We have to run," he said.

Knowing how Blaine had been up to this point, Kurt wasn't sure why he expected to find anything but a completely serious expression on Blaine's face. But he _had_ expected that, had expected a playful grin or something like that, and was suitably surprised to find he was wrong.

"No, we don't," Kurt said quickly, shaking his head.

"Yes, we do," Blaine replied, gesturing at the sky. "We might miss it."

And just like that, Blaine took off with a quick shout of, "Race you!" It was another one of those things that he was coming to realize shouldn't be a surprise anymore. Blaine would be Blaine and, well, that was that.

Not wanting to be left behind, Kurt started running after him, letting out a breath that he would never admit was a laugh. And if it was a laugh, it was really just because he was thinking about that image that they must have made. Two full grown men, running down a path through first a thin wooded area and then farmland and, yes, racing each other.

In the end, Blaine's feet hit the wood of the gazebo first. He threw his hands up with a grin, looking back at Kurt. "I win!" he said, his chest heaving.

Huffing, with his hands on his knees, Kurt rolled his eyes. "You had a head start," he pointed out.

Blaine clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I warned you before I started running that I was going to," he pointed out. He took a seat on one of the benches on the edge of the gazebo, looking at Kurt and patting the space on the seat beside him.

Kurt sat down, letting out a breath. He looked over the hill in the direction Blaine had pointed earlier, saying, "Well, we made it."

"Because we ran," Blaine said, grinning.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sky spatter with hues of red and orange. The light fell down on the slight curve of the fields, making the ground look almost like it was orange, too. Kurt narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as a quick light caught his attention.

"Was that a firefly?" he asked.

Blaine's face stayed flat as he focused on the sunset, shrugging. "Could be," he answered. "I mean, it _is _summer and all."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but without even looking over, Blaine hushed him. Kurt couldn't help but let his gaze flicker between the sunset and Blaine's face, wondering what exactly it was that was happening just then.

The longer he waited, though, the more sure he became that it was a firefly that he had seen. In fact, that field was _crawling _with them. And as the light of day faded away from the area around the gazebo, Kurt came to the realization that they had to be part of whatever Blaine's magic was.

"Close your eyes, Kurt," Blaine urged quietly.

He looked over at Blaine, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I'm still not planning on murdering you," he said again, and Kurt chuckled as he relented, closing his eyes. "I just want you to open your eyes to this when it's ready."

"When what's ready, exactly?" he asked.

At the moment, Kurt was almost positive that he could _feel_ Blaine's grin, even though he couldn't see it. Maybe Blaine's happiness was enough that he literally radiated it. "Well," he said, "I think the best way to describe it is by thinking about snow."

"It's summer," Kurt put in.

Blaine sighed, but Kurt could hear him chuckling as well. "Yes, it is," he said. "But when it snows, you know how the ground is all twinkly, like instead of snow it's just a bunch of white glitter?"

Kurt nodded, thinking back to all the times he had stared out a window at a fresh snow, swaying back and forth slightly just so that he could watch the sparkles on the ground dance.

"Well, that's basically what this is," he finished.

The statement hung between them for a moment, Blaine's words echoing in Kurt's head as he pieced together what exactly what he'd said meant.

He startled slightly when he heard Blaine's voice telling him to open his eyes, but Blaine just chuckled quickly and didn't say anything more about it.

The instant that Kurt looked out into the field, he got exactly what Blaine had meant. The fireflies were all low to the ground, spread out over the expanse of the field. They lit up just in time enough that when one's light went off, another's came on. The tiny glows, only recognizable as fireflies to Kurt because he had known what they were, created the impression that the field was glowing.

"Oh," was all he could think to say.

Beside him, Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "I _know_," he said.

"It's like…" Kurt started, shaking his head slightly as he tried to find words to describe how dazzling the sight before him was and how grateful he was that Blaine had shared it with him. He almost felt tempted to stand up and run out into the field and become a kid again, chasing after fireflies and catching them in his hands.

"I know," Blaine repeated, and from there on out they came to a silent agreement that no more words were needed.

They sat there in the gazebo, watching the little bugs dancing over the field, until some of them must have grown tired and went to sleep for the night. Like the fireflies, Kurt felt himself growing tired. He had reached the point where, especially considering how Blaine hadn't even hesitated to lift him up into his arms earlier, he didn't stop to worry too much about what Blaine might think of him leaning over and laying his head on his shoulder.

If Blaine minded, he didn't say anything. He could feel the other man shifting slightly, felt his breath on the top of his head and knew he was looking down at him, but he didn't care to wonder about what the look on his face was.

He just watched the "magic" happening before his eyes until he could hold them open no longer, falling asleep against Blaine's shoulder.

* * *

><p>A few days later, Kurt found himself sitting on the couch watching an old episode of Scrubs and wondering when he might hear from Blaine again.<p>

As it turned out, he'd hear from him, albeit indirectly, almost immediately.

Finn came in through the front door, only stopping to put his keys on the hook by the door when Kurt called out to him to remind him to do so, and flopped down on the couch next to Kurt.

"Blaine is insane," he said.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, looking over at Finn. "Oh?"

"Well, yeah," he said, shrugging. "Nice guy, sure, but he's crazy."

"I'm not sure crazy is the word," he replied, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down on the TV so that he could hear Finn better.

This action turned Finn's attention to the screen, where JD was having a dream sequence. "There," he said, lifting an arm and gesturing to the screen. "That is _exactly_ who Blaine is. He is JD."

Kurt tilted his head to the side for a moment, considering it. "I don't know," he said. "I mean, I guess I could see it."

Finn shook his head. "No, that is definitely the best comparison you will ever find," he said. "Blaine is a really nice guy, and he totally means well. Props, bro, you found a not creepy rich guy." Kurt chuckled at that, shaking his head. "_But_, he also has a lot going on in his head. Like, his mind works really fast and sometimes there isn't a filter between his mind and his mouth. I like it, though."

Kurt shrugged. "I think that there's a reason he's like that," he said. "I mean, it could just be that he's the last pure soul on the planet, but I don't think that's the case."

"No. We both knew Brittany," he said, shaking his head. "She was a pure soul or whatever you just said, too."

Nodding at the memory, Kurt shrugged. "Regardless, I'm going to see if I can figure him out," he said.

"Go for it," Finn said, lifting a hand to give him a thumbs up.

Kurt nodded, looking away from the screen and back to Finn. "What did you end up doing with him, anyways?"

Finn laughed, shrugging. "We started out grabbing sandwiches over at the Subway," he said. "But then… And I'm still not exactly sure how this came up, we ended up at a mini-golf place."

Kurt couldn't even find it in himself to be surprised. Thinking about the personalities of the two men in question, he almost should have expected them to find some childlike pastime to get to know each other over.

"He's crazy good," Finn said. "Like, he could be a professional."

"I don't think professional mini-golf is a thing," he said, shaking his head.

Finn pulled his phone out of his pocket, and Kurt had a sneaking suspicion that he was looking it up on the internet. "Still, though, he could go pro," he said, tapping away at the keyboard.

"I'm sure," Kurt said.

Finn was not as content as Kurt was to let it go, though, and he went on and on to Kurt about how good Blaine was at mini-golf. He had, apparently, sent a ball over the edge of the course and Finn had been sure that it was lost until it rolled back onto the flat green ground and into the hole.

The stories went on and on until Kurt pointed at the clock. "You have work in about an hour," he pointed out. "You smell like sweat, so you need a shower before you leave."

Lifting his shirt up to his nose to sniff it, Finn nodded. "Oh, yeah, you're right," he said, getting to his feet. He left the room, pausing in the doorway to turn back to Kurt and say, "So, yeah, I'm alright with this guy. When are you leaving?"

Kurt just shrugged, and he couldn't help but to join Finn in his laughter at that.

* * *

><p>He didn't hear from Blaine for an entire week after the night they'd gone out behind his apartment. If it wasn't for the fact that Blaine actually had met up with Finn, then he might have been more concerned that this… this <em>thing<em>, this adventure wasn't really happening.

But he didn't let the thought bother him.

His positive thinking (or, well, really his lack of thinking about Blaine or his impending departure from Lima at all) paid off a week and a day after he'd last seen Blaine, in the form of a text message: _Come by my apartment today?_

He didn't need to be asked twice.

* * *

><p>It was a bit strange, walking up to Blaine's apartment without the man right there beside him.<p>

This was only the third time he'd been there, and yet the walk up the stairs and to the door felt oddly familiar, just minus Blaine's footsteps joining his own. It felt a bit off to him, not having him talking to him about whatever was on his mind.

He looked at the door for a moment, realizing that this time he wouldn't be able to watch Blaine fumble with his keys and say things like "is it this one?" over and over. He would have to knock.

When he did so, Bennett was the one who opened the door. He let Kurt inside and told him to sit down and make himself at home.

Kurt sat down on the couch that he'd sat on, eating Chinese food with Blaine, not so long ago. When it was Bennett that joined him on the couch this time, he came to the realization that Blaine might not be there.

"Where's Blaine?" he asked.

Bennett chuckled. "Oh, he's started," he said. "He's gone off to—" He cut himself off then, giving Kurt a warning look as if he had forced him to nearly slip out the answer. "He told me not to tell you where he went, though he said he also thinks you know?"

"Washington, DC?"

Bennett just leaned forward, grabbing a glass of water from the coffee table and taking a long sip. It was as good as a yes in Kurt's mind. From the table, he also picked up a credit card and handed it to Kurt.

Kurt's eyes went wide as he looked at the card, finding his own name on it. "Wait, did he—?"

"You know, I've been trying to figure out how exactly he pulled it off without you being at the bank with him or signing any papers or anything," he said thoughtfully, looking at it with not a small amount of curiosity. "But my best answer at this point is that rich people do what they want."

Kurt laughed at that, nodding. If Blaine had enough money that he could just up and pay for a complete stranger's passage on a god-knows how long trip, then Kurt could definitely see him as the sort of person who had enough money that the normal rules didn't exactly apply to him.

"So, anyways," Bennett continued, "he said you can use that all you want. Airfare, hotels, food, whatever. And the game has begun now."

Kurt nodded, thanking Bennett. He was about to stand up, but he stopped himself. This would be an ideal opportunity to pick Bennett's brain about his roommate. "Before I leave, can I talk to you for a moment?"

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, so, another quick note: in addition to my main tumblr (ohbestbeloved), where you can find me most often, I've also set up a side blog- pursuitofadventure- just for this fic, where from here on out I'll be posting things relevant to what is going on in the fic at the time. Feel free to follow and, hopefully, if you have any questions or ideas or suggestions (for locations or activities or whatever, really <em>anything<em>), let me know here or on there! Thank you so much!**


	4. Update

So... I have a feeling that probably no one is still holding out hope for this fic, seeing as it's been so long since I updated. But I feel like I couldn't just let it sit, or just quietly pull it down off of FFN or something, so here is the fact of the matter regarding Pursuit:

My writing this was deeply connected to my relationship with someone. She really liked it and she motivated me to write more of this story even when I was hitting road blocks. Like, there's a thing that people sometimes say to help writers: that you should write to please one person. Well, she was my person. Her opinion mattered to me more than anyone else's. But then, through a series of events that I will not describe here, I didn't treat her right and I deeply hurt her.

When I first started writing this, our friendship was still new enough that everything was exciting and fun and everything. That is reflected in the first chapter. But now that things are what they are, right now I can't bring myself to even consider writing in this verse for a long time, if ever. So... Basically, this is where the line ends, officially.

On the offchance that you are curious about what was going to happen, you can message me on here or on tumblr (my URL is ohbestbeloved) and I'll tell you. Or you can hold out the hope that I might maybe one day return and finish this, but I wouldn't count on it.

Thank you, and I'm sorry.


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